“That isss very graciousss of you, Masssster,” the father said.
“I’m no one’s master,” he said, making a face. “You can call me Keaton. Or Lord Keaton, if you insist.”
“My ssson and I are at your disssposal then, Lord Keaton,” the snakekin said with a bow. “If you wish to use our namesss, mine is Yurgetse, and my ssson is Ankhaga.”
“Good to have you both aboard.”
He made introductions for the others. While Cassia was a bit standoffish, she didn’t seem to hate this idea as she had earlier. Adriana was friendly, if reserved. And Orbon didn’t threaten to pop out anyone’s eyes, so Keaton considered that progress.
There was one person missing, though…
“What about Vrishta?” Ankhaga asked.
She stood off to the side, just watching all of them. Her arms were wrapped about her middle and she looked at Keaton with pleading eyes.
“I know I am not a sssmith, but I can create potionsss and elixirsss with the right herbs.”
“I hadn’t planned to put you to work in the forge,” Keaton affirmed. “You can join as The Labyrinth’s herbalist. Same benefits apply. Sound good?”
“I would be honored.” Her eyes lit up, that reptilian slitted pupil dilating.
“We need to get out of here,” Cassia said. “Finish up and let’s go.”
Keaton nodded in agreement. It was pure luck they hadn’t attracted any more attention yet, but that luck wouldn’t hold out. It never did.
“Get anything you want to bring with you and meet us up top,” he told the snakekin. “We’ll get you out of here and make a home for you in The Labyrinth once we complete the ritual.”
Yurgetse took point, directing the others to stuff some weapons and armor into sacks. Keaton took the others back the way they’d come, and though he could still hear more snakekin slithering below, none came to bother them.
That’s… weird. I can’t be the only one who thinks so.
As soon as he had the thought, another joined it. Only this one wasn’t in his own voice.
‘Consssider it a gift, young lord. One you will repay when the time issss right.’
His hand instantly flew to his scimitar, the sudden tension in his body putting Cassia on alert.
“What is it?” she asked, signaling for her warriors to surround him as a living shield.
But the moment she asked the question, Keaton just… didn’t know. There was a gap there; a hole in his short-term memory.
“I think I just heard something deeper inside. Let’s just keep moving,” he said, unable to shake that sense of unease as they ascended.
23
They made it to the entrance of the dungeon without any trouble, which was as much a surprise to Keaton as it was to everyone else.
There was something to be said for having the gods on your side, or whatever, but he had a hard time believing they were smiling on his rag-tag band of thieves. Maybe Hestian, but he was an asshole, and his regard always came with a price. Considering he was the patron deity of most daemons, too, it only made sense.
If Hestian was watching, there was every chance they would be fucked when they least expected it. That was how he operated, getting his jollies by causing as much chaos as possible. Keaton might have been agreeable to it before, but not now. The stakes were already higher, and there were people depending on him to not mess this up.
That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to indulge a little to silence the unease, though. Once they set up camp for the night — at the edge of the desert, where the stocky trees and scrub brush began to grow again — Keaton cracked open one of the wine bottles he’d pilfered from the dungeon and took a big swig before offering it to Adriana.
“I’d say we all deserve this.” He plunked down on a half-rotted log, using a stick to poke at the fire. “The mission went mostly as planned, we got what we came for, and we all made it out alive.”
Adriana considered the bottle of wine, and for a moment he wondered if he’d committed some grave sin. But she took a drink — a very long drink, one where Keaton found himself staring lewdly at the way her throat worked, remembering the daemon’s games from the other night. Heat rose in his face and he looked away from her, returning to the task of minding the fire.
“I admit I am ssssurprissed our mistressss did not put up a fight. It worriessss me,” Yurgetse said, accepting the wine from Adriana.
“You think she hasss something planned?” Vrishta asked.
“Of course she has something planned.”
They all looked at Cassia who was still standing, arms folded over her chest. Her two warriors flanked her, their expressions similarly grim, though one was eyeing the wine bottle with interest.
While she hadn’t exactly been the friendliest person, there was a shift in the way Cassia acted since they’d come to this place. She was sterner, more reserved, her interest not on the thrill of competition, but on some sort of duty she felt she needed to carry out. He’d felt her watching him, judging him, and he didn’t much care for it.
“If you have something to say, Cassia, you might as well say it.”
One swig of wine and he was already feeling punchier than he should. That urge to confront his lieutenant was like an itch under his skin, and Keaton couldn’t help scratching.
Weird. I’m not usually so ready to jump down someone’s throat like this.
It was probably just the stress of his new position, and all the changes he’d endured lately. At least he hoped that was what it was. Otherwise this might be a permanent personality trait he’d suddenly acquired when he accepted the gauntlet. And that would be… shitty, honestly.
“We did what we set out to do. You are right about that, Lord Keaton.” She snatched the bottle away from one of the snakekin and took a generous gulp before handing it back. “But there is unfinished business here, and I have never known a dungeon lord who had no interest in taking the power of other lords as his own. It is how your kind survive.”
“Well it’s not who I am. Or… not who I want to be.” He pushed the darker memories aside. It was time for a new start. “If we have to do it, then fine. But I’m not going to risk lives by provoking fights for no reason.”
“There is always a reason, even if it’s only to stop others from doing the same thing to you,” she said, her emerald gaze fixed on him. Keaton had to fight hard not to squirm under her scrutiny. He’d never been in the army, but he felt like he was being dressed down by a commanding officer. “What happens when this dungeon lord comes to The Labyrinth and takes back what’s hers and then some?”
“Then we’ll defend ourselves,” Keaton said, sparing a longing gaze at the wine bottle as it was passed around far from him.
After a beat, he realized he didn’t have to wait. It might not have been the smartest idea to break into another bottle but fuck it. Keaton needed the buzz.
“I’m not going to murder someone unprovoked.” Not anymore, at least.
“Yet stealing from them is just?” one of Cassia’s warriors spoke up.
“And you must have killed the previous lord of The Labyrinth,” said the other.
Keaton looked across the fire, searching for any backup. The snakekin averted their gazes and pretended not to listen. Orbon made no such pretense, but he also didn’t look too bothered one way or another. His focus was mostly on the fat rodent he had skewered over the fire, its corpse charred to a crisp.
Even Adriana seemed inclined to avoid this fight. She met his gaze but shook her head slightly. “I told you I have never met another dungeon lord like you, Lord Keaton. I do not think it is a bad thing, but we will need to shore up our defenses.”